


passionate from miles away

by queerofcups



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 12:38:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10594176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerofcups/pseuds/queerofcups
Summary: Singapore twinkles back at them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> if you're wondering what vibe i'm going for, a short playlist:
> 
> drake - passionfruit  
> phantogram - don't move   
> oh wonder - ultralife

 Dan looks out across the skyline. It’s finally night time. After a long, slow dusk, Changi twinkles back at them. The air around them is warm and thick with wetness, they’re very, very high up and the sounds of the bar behind him melt into each other, quiet except the occasional glass clinking glass.

There’s another flight on the end of this long breather and they hadn’t gotten to see as much of the city as they wanted to.

Dan is still very, very tired; the lingering exhaustion of the last few months clinging to him. His nerves still jangle a little with all the talking and picture taking they’ve done today, and the rush of being in a different city, the wide open expanse of a _break_.

Dan’s so used to working that it’s almost scary to have nothing to do.

And it’s not really _nothing_ to do. There’s a conference waiting for them on the other side of the world, and when they get home, the daunting task of decorating a new space. It’s just not the hysterical grind of a show every day, a book, another book. Slowing down almost feels like standing still, after the year _s_ they’ve had.

Dan sips his drink. It’s something sweet and dark colored Phil had convinced him to buy. They’ve been here for hours, sat in this high-up bar after dinner and talked quietly, heads bent together a little.

They’d talked work, a little, and then caught sight of a falling sun and the sky pinking up, sweet and warm.

Dan had led them from the high top table they’d claimed to the seats near the window. Phil followed. 

Dan’s used to Phil following; sometimes pushing him, sometimes pulling him back. He’s not sure what he’d do without the feeling of Phil at his back. 

They don’t talk work, after they’ve found seats looking out the windows. They watch the sunset, watch pink bleed into purple, into thick navy blue. 

Dan’s been doing this for years and he’s still shocked he gets to see things like this, he gets to breathe in places like this. 

He’s thinking about this, shocked and grateful, when he feels fingers on his leg. He realizes he feels fingers on his _leg_ , Phil’s fingers tucked into the ripped part of his jeans, slipping between the thread. 

It’s not unusual. For someone who’d never buy them, Phil’s a little obsessed with Dan’s pairs of ripped jeans, loves to crowd up next to him and sneak his fingers into the rips and tears. It’s cute, and a little possessive. 

Phil’s possessiveness is quiet and unnoticed next to Dan’s brash, obvious jealous. In public, it looks like standing a touch too close, the willingness to take charge when Dan’s half blind, and that thing he does where he stands next to someone Dan’s talking to _just so_ and watches Dan struggle to pay attention to them, his eyes drawn to Phil. 

In private, it looks like the mouthmarks that litter the parts of Dan that never see the light of day and clever fingers slipping into the rips and tears of his jeans, searching for skin. Phil doesn’t touch him in public often, certain that everyone will immediately know what he means when his fingers skim across some part of Dan. 

It’s a little jarring, this private touch while surrounded by people they don’t know, who may know them. 

Dan glances away from a glittering skyline to look at Phil, who’s smiling. There’s tiredness in the corners of his mouth, but his eyes are bright and amused. Dan’s certain he falls in love with Phil at least twice a day, usually in the wake of this smile. Phil’s devastating, gorgeous in a way that wrecks and remakes Dan like its nothing.

“Can I help you?” Dan asks. He feels his own voice rumbling in his chest, quiet and low. They’re being _intimate_ , he knows.

They’re in a dim bar, having watched the sunset and now touching each other softly. Dan’s not sure when the frequency vibration of their relationship slowed into this mellow _adult_ thing they do sometimes. He’s not sure when he started thinking of Phil as devastating, rather than a fit dude he’s tricked into spending all his time with Dan.

“You can,” Phil says. He’s fit two fingers, index and middle, between the threads of the highest part of the rip, a few centimeters from being indecent. He strokes Dan’s leg a little, and grins a little wider. They’re tipsy, looking out over a beautiful city, in the semi-privacy of a dark bar and Phil is making eyes at him, flirty.

The part of Dan’s brain that never really mellows out, that’s always thinking of how things can go wrong, notes that they’re in public, that they’re two giant white dudes in a country where they’re not the norm, so semi-privacy really _isn’t_ privacy. Dan ignores it. 

“Phil _Lester_ ,” Dan says, grinning back, feigning shock.

Phil doesn’t touch him in public, because he’s certain people will know. If Phil doesn’t care that they know, then Dan doesn’t care. 

“ _Daniel_ ,” Phil says back, teasing. He’s still rubbing Dan’s leg. Dan’s certain if they kissed right now Phil would taste like alcohol and the fruit that garnished his drink. He’s tempted, curious how far he can lean before Phil either flinches back, or leans forward to meet him. 

He’s satisfied to shake his head and look back across the city. They’ve got time before they retreat back to their hotel room and Phil can make good on the things his fingers are promising. Dan can try and get up early enough to see the sun rise, too. Dan spins plans forward in his head.

They’ll get on a plane to Australia. They’ll meet people. They’ll go back to England, to their new house waiting to be made into a home. They’ll make videos. They’ll breathe.

For now though, they can have this moment, warm and wet and particular and tempting, for a little while longer.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi at queerofcups.tumblr.com


End file.
